


Not Quite Responsible

by orphan_account



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: FACE Family, I suck at tags, M/M, Tiny fifth grade countries, fruk love each other just kinda angrily, hints of other ships but they don't really show up, irresponsible England and France, really bad history references, u guys are terrible chaperones, who let them chaperone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-14
Updated: 2015-07-14
Packaged: 2018-04-09 09:08:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4342532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur is here because his son dragged him into it. Francis is here because he refused to stay at home, to the annoyance of his son. And together, they are the worst parent chaperones ever to live!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Quite Responsible

Arthur is slumped against the wall, muttering under his breath. The kids he's chaperoning- more like babysitting, really- are learning about the Hundred Years War, which he has practically memorized because of how much time he has spent in this stupid room. Alfred dragged him along, something about 'having fun.' Here. As if. The other chaperone, whoever it is, is late, and he is infinitely more annoyed because of it: so much he doesn't think it's possible to be any less happy in this place. He doesn't care about the Hundred Years War right now. All he wanted was to stay home and watch a documentary or something.

Not gonna happen. As long as Alfred was happy, he was fine. Anyways, things were better since nobody else was there. He pulled out his magazine and began to read an article, mind not really on it. Wasn't Francis supposed to be here as well? Counting heads, he checked over the kids. Alfred, his son. Kiku, Yao's kid who always got in trouble for drawing in class. Carla, Antonio's fiercely competitive daughter who was taller than most of the others last year but now managed to be one of the shortest. Raivis, the shaky foreign boy whose older brother has full custody of him. Lili, purple ribbon in her hair, with the overprotective older brother. No Matthew. So that was why Francis wasn't here. Good riddance. He nearly didn't notice his least favorite other parent was _strutting_ into the room, shy violet-eyed kid behind him. "Apologies for being late, mon ami. Matthieu and I slept in, he was sick yesterday." Actually, Arthur did remember Alfred saying something about his friend being sick the other day. He wasn't just making up excuses. But still, of all the chaperones. Not right now, just when he got settled!

"Francis. You're late. I assume you would be the other chaperone." He tensed up. Of all the other people. He would have even tolerated Antonio, if it meant it wasn't Francis. And that stupid flouncy Frenchman was still talking. They'd never actually been on good terms, but their sons (both adopted) were close as brothers and constantly wanted to be at the other's house. Unfortunately, resulting in muted annoyance at one another. At this point they were constantly mistaken for dating, even married. That was the annoyance of it- it was that everyone took them for dating or married. If that type of stuff didn't happen, or Alfred and Matthew were maybe a bit less involved in every possible activity, they could have been ACTUALLY dating.

"That's no way to make friends, mon ami!" Arthur sighed. "I don't want to make friends. I am perfectly fine." If he wanted to make friends, it wasn't going to be with the journalist. Just because their kids were friends didn't make THEM friends.

"But mon amour!" Arthur barely repressed snapping at him. He was generally more civil, but he hadn't gotten enough sleep because of his job at a law firm. A particularly rude client from some other country kept him up (it was only 3:00 PM there and 4:00 in the morning in America.) 

"Don't. Don't call me that." He said this through gritted teeth. Francis grinned in the self-assured way he always did, goal of annoying the other complete.

That was when Arthur realized something. In the span of five minutes, the chatter had stopped. He looked up. "In the name of the bloody queen this must be a joke." They had somehow managed to lose an entire class of fifth-graders.

"This is your fault, you frog."


End file.
